Page 12 of Lost Cause
“Maybe, but it would be hard to tell if someone burned something from this room. We need Victor to look through his things.” Burke circled the room, and the floor near the mantle creaked under his feet. He bent to study the wood. “A loose floorboard.”
He pulled out a pocketknife and pried the wood free, revealing a hollow space, perfect for storing secrets.
She stood over him. “It’s empty.”
“Maybe someone took something out of here and burned it in the fireplace.” He looked up at her. “Documents? Letters?”
She glanced around the room. “Victor might’ve decided to get rid of something incriminating before we arrived.”
“Could be.” Burke pivoted to take in the firebox and agreed with her assessment of the ashes. “Couple this with him being the only one who knows about the crown, and no sign of forced entry makes his involvement more likely. Let’s grab him to check out the room.”
He didn’t want to confront the older guy. If he was indeed connected to someone high up in the county, and if Burke started lobbing accusations at him and was wrong, Burke could lose his job. But no matter the pressure his boss might put on him, he would do the right thing.
From the far end of the hall, a door closed with a sharp click.
“We’re not alone,” Abby whispered.
“Could just be Victor,” Burke said, but still reached for his gun.
“Or not. It sounded solid. Like the front door, and he said he never goes outside.” She drew her sidearm. “Besides, I didn’t hear his cane hitting the floor.”
“We won’t know until we check it out.” He rushed toward the door, leaving the blueprints behind.
Abby followed and they moved in sync, years of law enforcement training converging instinctively. They found the foyer empty, the front door still closed. No wind. No creaking floors.
And no noise from Victor when they entered the library. Except for the soft snores escaping through his open mouth. Eyes closed, he reclined back in his chair, a plaid blanket over his knees. A nearly empty snifter of brandy sat on the table beside him.
“Obviously Victor didn’t make the noise,” Abby said.
“But we both heard someone slipping out of a room or from the mansion.”
“The question is, who?”
“Let me check with my team outside to see if they spotted anyone.” Burke removed a small radio clipped to his belt, but before he could say anything it crackled in his hand.
A voice cut through the static. “Unit one, we’ve got movement near the greenhouse. Lights on inside. It’ll take us a few minutes to get over there to check it out. You’re closer and might want to investigate.”
“Ten-four, unit two.” Burke warned Deputy Ewing about the potential suspect who they believed exited the house.
“Will keep an eye out as we head toward the greenhouse,” Ewing responded.
“We’re on our way.” Burke shot a look at Abby. “Greenhouse? Where is it?”
“Don’t know, but the blueprints are in the office.” She holstered her weapon and raced to the office, halting by the desk. She ran her finger over the top page, then tapped the faded paper. “East side of the property. There’s a warning note here. It says locked and condemned. Too dangerous to enter.”
Burke met her gaze. “You might as well leave a red flag telling us to check it out.”
She gave him an excited nod. “Fastest way to get there is through the French doors.”
They exited through the veranda, their flashlights sweeping across the overgrown garden paths. In the distance, the greenhouse took shape in the shadows, large and imposing against the backdrop of night. The moon broke through the clouds, and the light silvered against the glass walls.
Inside, a light flickered, then went out.
Burke whipped out his sidearm. Abby too. After a quick glance, they eased down the path, picking their way through greenery that had already been disturbed.
They reached the door.
“Wait here.” He held up his hand and inched forward. Surprisingly, she stayed behind. He pulled on the handle of an aged wooden door with glass panels. The hinges rasped open.
